


tie-dye dragons

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Conversations, Friendship, Gen, Loneliness, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Post-Apocalypse, References to Depression, Survival, Talking, this is in the same universe as "songbird's king"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: "Is anyone in there?"Tubbo opens his eyes, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Holy shit.That's Phil.(or, tubbo & phil meet again)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 138





	tie-dye dragons

Tubbo can remember a time where he wasn't so alone, and he wonders how long it's been since then. 

Too long. 

Tubbo sighs, running his hands along the wooden railing outside the cabin on top of the mountain. He found this place a few months ago, he found the person who owned it before him dead, but not really dead. They were still alive, but not _really_ alive. He stabbed them in the throat, and then when that didn't kill them, he stabbed them in the head, like all the movies has told him to do, and it worked. Tubbo never thought he would be in the centre of a zombie apocalypse, but he can't change it, so there's not really any point in trying to resist. He looks up at the sky, watching as a flock of birds soar from the north, beating their wings as they fly throughout the sky, passing clouds and soaring in front of the sun. Tubbo sighs, looking away. He stares at the ground around him, filled with wildgrasses and wildflowers, scattered with rocks and wood chips. This place is nice, it's peaceful and quiet. 

It's lonely. It's really, really lonely. He looks out at the sky, swaying on his feet a little. It's been lonely without anyone or anything. He's been entirely on his own, he's been alone, and he thinks that he's going insane. Tubbo doesn't know how people do this sort of thing, he doesn't understand how people can isolate themselves from everyone else. He didn't do this on purpose - he had to, he had to run or else he would die. Tubbo thinks that maybe he should have stayed. Maybe he should have stayed in his town, he could have probably survived. He would have been able to find Wilbur or Tommy, and they'd all survive together. At least, that's how stories are always supposed to go, right? Tubbo thinks that they were supposed to get a happy ending, but he ended up running. 

He leans back on his heels, tilts his head, stares at the clouds. It's close to being spring now. The end of January is near, and it's definitely a welcome change. Tubbo has always preferred the spring anyways. There are more bees and flowers, and just in _general_ , he feels so much happier. He feels a lot better in spring, i sort of reminds him of home. It helps him forget about what he's lost, who he's lost. Tubbo isn't stupid - he knows that there's a good chance that a lot of his friends and sort-of family are gone. They could be dead, they could be corpses, they could be zombies. But there's always that chance that they're all okay and alive, and Tubbo isn't going to give up that hope. It's stupid, he knows that, but he has to have something to look forwards to. 

Society could recuperate, Tubbo thinks. It'll take a long time, it might take decades, but things could all end up okay. It's a stretch of a happy ending, but Tubbo would like to hold out for it. He thinks that it could happen, anything is possible. If the dead can rise, then he can have his happy ending. He'll just have to work for it, and he's entirely willing to do that. Tubbo taps his foot against the ground, drumming his fingers against the wooden railing in front of him. He misses his friends, he misses his best friend, specifically. Tubbo wishes that he took Tommy with him when he ran, but he didn't know where he was. Tubbo couldn't even go further into the city because there were too many zombies, and he didn't have a weapon. 

Tubbo laughs, ducking his head. The thought of having a weapon, the thought of actually _having_ to have a weapon, it's absurd to him. The idea of killing people, even though they're already dead, is so fucked up. It's awful, he thinks. This entire world, this whole apocalypse, it's awful. Tubbo really does wish that he managed to find Tommy and Wilbur, he misses them. He misses them both, he misses his friends and he thinks he'd do anything just to know that they're okay. He misses talking to Tommy about stupid shit, he misses bothering Wilbur about bugs and dragging him out to collect rocks and stuff like that. Tubbo misses having his normal life, and he'd do a lot of things to get it back. He sighs, shifting uncomfortably on his feet at the thought of his old life. 

He doesn't really think that he'll ever be able to go back to normal. Even if everyone else and everything else goes back to being normal, he doesn't think he'll be able to. Tubbo has killed people, and although they were already _dead_ , that's still awful. It's still evil, isn't it? Killing another person is still bad, even if it's in self-defence, it has to be, it has to be bad. That's why it's illegal, or, at least, that's why it _was_ illegal. Laws have sort of fallen through, he thinks. Nothing is really illegal or wrong anymore, there aren't really a set of structured rules anymore. Societies and governments, they've all collapsed. In some ways, that's alright. 

Tubbo thinks that it would be a lot harder to survive if the military was storming throughout the country. From all the movies he's seen, Tubbo thinks that it's probably for the best that this is the outcome they've gotten. He glances back at his cabin, feeling his heart ache a little more than usual. He misses Tommy a lot. He misses so many people, but mostly Tommy. Tommy was, _is_ , his best friend. Tubbo wishes that he had the chance to say goodbye to him before everything in the world went wrong, he really does. Tubbo wishes that he could see him at least once, just one more time, and that would be all he could ever ask for. He just wants to know that his best friend is okay. He wants to see him again, he wants to see Tommy laugh and smile and clap his hands together when he laughs, which he picked up from Wilbur. 

Tubbo thinks that he really just wishes his life would go back to normal, and he doesn't think that anyone could blame him. 

With a sigh, he turns away from the ledge of the railing, he starts to move again. He pushes open the door that leads back into his cabin, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Being outside is hard, because then it's quiet, and if it's quiet, he thinks. Tubbo hates thinking, it just leads to him getting hurt. He's alone with his thoughts, and that's dangerous. 

Tubbo wishes he wasn't alone. 

* * *

It's not even five in the morning when Tubbo hears thumping at his doorstep. He grabs his gun and his knife, furiously blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he kicks off his blankets and rolls out of his bed. His bare feet hit the wooden floor, and he pretends like he doesn't feel chills go down his spine. He slips on an overcoat, one that's thick and filled with fur and has hard, tough leather on the outside of it, just in case. He's been bit before - that coat saved his life. Tubbo walks as quietly as he can, keeping himself low to the ground, careful to not step on that one creaky floorboard by the door. Tubbo raises his gun, finger resting on the trigger. He breathes out, closing his eyes for a moment. 

"Is anyone in there?" 

Tubbo opens his eyes, feeling his heart pound in his chest. _Holy shit_. 

That's _Phil._

"Phil?" Tubbo asks, still careful to keep his voice quiet. "Is that..is that you? Holy..Phil?" He hears a laugh from the other side of the door, one that sounds eerily like Phil's laugh. He doesn't think that zombies have learnt how to mimic voices, but he still wants to be careful. He doesn't even know if they could do that, since they're just walking corpses, but he also didn't think zombies were actually real, so Tubbo wants to play it safe.

"Yeah. Hiya, mate," Phil's voice is soft and gentle, low and coaxing. It's a little raspy and broken, but to be fair, so is Tubbo. "You gonna let me in, or nah? It's a bit cold out here, you know?" Phil laughs again, sounding like he's resting on the door. Tubbo switches the safety back on his gun, pulling open the door. The man in front of him is most certainly Phil. His hair is a little messy, tangled in some places, a lot longer than it used to be. His beard is longer, his eyes are more tired, his smile is exhausted, and he looks like he's been through hell and back, but it's still, without a doubt, Phil. "Heya, mate."

"Hey, Phil," Tubbo smiles, feeling tears spring at the corners of his eyes. "I missed you. Where..where are Tommy and Wilbur?" He asks, his arms hanging to his sides. "Or is it..is it just you?" He feels his happiness shatter, he feels his entire world go bleary and dark at the way that Phil looks at him. "Oh. They're dead, aren't they?"

Phil looks away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I hope not. I ran away," he admits. "It was at the beginning of the apocalypse. I told them to stay put, and then I started to yell, started to make a lotta noise, you know," he smiles, staring down at the ground. "I tried to get as many zombies away from them as possible. I ran for a long fucking time, I killed as many as I could. But, um, I..I'm not sure if they're okay or not. I think they are. I think they're fine, they're smart." 

Tubbo nods, biting down on his lip. That's not really an answer. But if Phil managed to get most of the zombies in their town away from them, then they definitely were given a fighting chance. Wilbur and Tommy are smart, they're _really_ fucking smart, the both of them combined are practically geniuses. They'll probably be okay. They probably _are_ okay. "Alright," he nods, breathing out. "I..I'm really glad that you're here, Phil," Tubbo admits, beaming up at the man. "I've been..it's been _really_ lonely, you know? I've been here since the beginning." 

"I figured," Phil steps inside, gently closing the door behind him. "I've been bouncing from town to town. I couldn't get back to our home without passing through the hoard again, and I was pretty fucking lucky that I got away the first time," he laughs, ducking his head. "I saw a light on up here, just for a few seconds. I figured that I could at least check up here for survivors, you know? Thank fucking god I did, right?" Tubbo grins at him, nodding a few times as he turns away. "How have you been, Tubbo?" 

"Pretty shit," he snorts. "I'm not gonna like to you, Philza, I've been real sad. It's been.." he shrugs, waving a hand. "You know? It's been sort of difficult. Being alone, and all that. I thought that I'd be able to do it without any problems, but, uh, _nah_ ," Tubbo laughs, tilting his head back. "How about you? How have you been doing?" Phil gives him a half-shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. Tubbo shifts under his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. 

It feels like they've both changed. They're not the same people anymore. 

"Difficult," Phil agrees. "I've just been bouncing around between cities and shit, figuring out places to stay to survive. I'm trying to set up a couple shelters in every town that I can find that has survivors in it. I want to try and fix this shit, you know? I'm trying to gather up a decent amount of people and start rebuilding. I really want to clear out some of the bigger hoards and start planting shit." Tubbo nods, wondering if that would ever be possible. 

"Any luck with that?"

Phil shrugs. "Not really, no. There really aren't that many survivors."

"Oh," Tubbo looks down at the ground. "Phil?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Do you think they're still alive?" Phil says nothing for far too long, and Tubbo knows that's his answer.

"I hope so."

"But you don't think that they are."

A longer pause.

"They're smart."

"You're avoiding the question, Phil."

Phil smiles. "I know."

Tubbo nods, feeling like he wants to cry. "I think we should find out for sure. I want to go back to that city and find out. I want to be certain before I..before we decide. I don't want to have to be right," Phil nods, squeezing his eyes shut. "I think that..maybe, you know, maybe they could be okay. They're really, really smart and strong, and they wouldn't take risks, right? They wouldn't take risks. They know better."

"Yeah," Phil agrees. "They'll.." he trails off, and Tubbo swallows. 

They're not okay. Wilbur and Tommy aren't okay. They're still in that city, in that town. There's no way that they're okay. 

And the thought of them not being okay makes Tubbo want to cry.

* * *

Life is weird, but not in the bad way. 

It's a sort of routine, almost. Phil wakes him up around five in the morning, sometimes Phil has to pick him up so he'll get out of bed. Sometimes Tubbo has a hard time eating, so Phil makes him, but a lot of the time, things go pretty smoothly. Tubbo feels like he's a lot more tired than usual, and that's probably just because he can see Wilbur and Tommy in Phil's features. He can see Tommy's eyes in Phil's, they're the same blue colour. Same jawline as Wilbur, same mannerisms. 

Tubbo misses his friends a lot. 

He misses Tommy the most. He misses his best friend and his stupid smile and his stupid laugh. Tubbo doesn't actually know if he's dead or not, but he's got a feeling. 

He hates that feeling.

But life isn't all that bad, not really. He's got someone else now, and he isn't that lonely, not anymore. Tubbo still feels sad a lot of the time. Sad and tired, sad and hopeless. It's easier, though. Phil makes things a little easier, it's nice to have someone else with him. Someone who sort of understands what he's going through, what he's been through. 

It's nice. Life isn't really that bad, it's still difficult and hard to deal with sometimes, but it's still not as bad. It could be worse, that's what keeps him going.

And as much as Tubbo wishes he could have Tommy and Wilbur back, he's okay with what he has. He's okay with who he has. 

At least, Tubbo thinks to himself, he has someone. 

At least he has Phil. 


End file.
